A Piece of a Star
by clevermycroft
Summary: The perils of parenthood.


She was crying.

Again.

Gregory Lestrade groaned sleepily into his pillow and glanced at his digital alarm clock on the bedside table next to the crackling baby monitor.

2:54AM.

Christ.

"It's your turn," Lestrade mumbled, nudging Mycroft with his foot to rouse him. "Mycroft, wake up."

The older Holmes brother just grunted and rolled over on to his side so he was facing away from Lestrade. He rolled his eyes.

"Mycroft," he said again, shaking the politician's shoulder as violently as he could at 2:54AM. "Mycroft, wake up, Evie's hungry."

"Gina will get her," Mycroft grumbled, wriggling out of Lestrade's grip.

"That's not very responsible parenting."

"We pay Gina to look after her when we're busy," Mycroft yawned, flopping back over to lay on his back and running his fingers through Greg's hair, "and, right now, we're busy sleeping."

"But-"

The soothing coos of Gina, the family's au pair, could be heard over Evie's cries. Greg frowned and sat up. "Fine, you stay here, I'm going to go see if she's alright."

"She's fine-"

"Shush," Gregory hushed and swung his legs over the side of the bed and standing up, grabbing the baby monitor as he went. Pulling his dressing gown on over his pyjamas, he padded across the room and dragged the heavy mahogany door open. He let it slam shut behind him just to show Mycroft how very annoyed he was and headed down the hall towards the nursery, clutching the screaming monitor to his chest.

Gregory and Mycroft had been married for five years when they decided they wanted a baby. Well, Greg had decided and Mycroft went along with it because he knew it would make Greg happy. That's all Mycroft wanted: for Greg to be happy.

So Mycroft used his connections to look into surrogacy and the rest, they say, is history.

As he hurried through the manor, Greg tried to reason with himself. He knew Mycroft loved their daughter very, very much, but he was so… formal. It made Gregory wonder about his husband's childhood, which he never spoke of without getting a strange coldness in his eyes. Greg tried not to think of anymore.

Arriving outside the nursery, Greg didn't hesitate. He pushed open the door to see a haggard looking Gina pacing the room up and down, bouncing a screaming Evie in her arms.

She didn't look surprised to see him. "Care to have a go, sir?" she asked with a weak smile and a pleading tone. "I've tried feeding her, burping her and changing her, but she just won't settle."

"You don't have to call me sir, Gina, I'm not on duty," Greg told her with a smile and held his arms out for the baby. "Give 'er here, let's see if dad can help."

Gina gladly dropped the tiny pink bundle into his waiting arms. She was nearly two months old, but Greg still felt dizzy whenever he held her. It was like holding a piece of a star. Greg was sure he'd never quite get used to it.

"Sh," he murmured, rocking her gently in his arms and kissing her wrinkled forehead softly. "Sh, little star, it'll be alright. What you crying for, eh?"

Evie fell silent for a second, blinking up at him, her blue eyes still shining with tears and hiccoughed. She looked remarkably like Mycroft, which was impossible since he had no biological connection to the child whatsoever. Somehow she had the exact same eyes, wide and shining and bright blue. She had Greg's hair though, dark as his had once been before he'd met Sherlock Holmes and the stress had shocked it grey. Evie's hair was thick and brown, curling all over her tiny head like a mass of bedsprings coiling in all different directions.

Greg smiled. "There now," he said softly. "Do you-"

But before he could finish his sentence, she was off again. Her tiny fists were clenched and her mouth was open in the shape of a letter box, a single unwavering cry flowing out of her as if she didn't need to draw breath. The policeman sighed and started pacing the same path Gina had, humming softly under his breath and bouncing her in his arms.

After ten minutes, Gina started pulling her hair out.

"Why is she being so difficult?" she whimpered, holding a plush giraffe in front of Evie's face. "What's the matter with her?"

Greg wasn't doing too well either. "I don't know," he said for the umpteenth time. "I really don't-"

The door suddenly swung open again and Mycroft strolled in, wearing his silk dressing gown and looking fresh as a daisy. Greg's mouth fell open. "I thought you were asleep," he said dumbly.

"Evidently you thought wrong, Gregory," Mycroft replied, scooping Evie out of his husband's arms and holding her at arm's length. "Young lady," he said to squirming, screaming bundle. "I'm very disappointed in you, is this any way for a lady to behave? I know you're only young, darling, but honestly, this silliness must stop."

On the word 'stop', Evie fell silent. "There now," Mycroft cooed, holding her against his shoulder and pressing his lips to her ear gently, rubbing her shoulder blade with the back of his knuckles. "That's my girl."

Greg and Gina just stared, dumbstruck as they watched Mycroft sweep across the room and lay the silent child back into her basinet. He placed a kiss on her still wrinkled forehead and straightened himself, smirking annoyingly.

"Now," he said, turning to his husband and their nanny. "Bed time."

And with that he tucked his hand into the pocket of his dressing gown and exited the room as quickly as he'd entered, flexing his wrist as if he were holding his umbrella.

"Night Gina," Lestrade mumbled and hurried after the politician.

Gina didn't move.

"Hey," Greg puffed as he caught up with his husband, grabbing his elbow and beaming at him. "That was brilliant," Greg told him, squeezing his arm. "I've never seen anything like it, how'd you do that?"

Mycroft shrugged modestly, but a smug smile creased his cheeks. "I know how to talk to people," he said. "Just because Evelina is a baby it doesn't mean I shall speak to her any differently. Except calling her 'my girl'. I've never called anyone that before."

Greg just smiled up at him and kissed him lightly on the lips. "You're amazing."

"I know," Mycroft smirked and started back towards their bedroom. "Come along, bed time."

"Alright, mum," Greg teased.

"You're the mum."

"You're the mum," Greg chuckled, leaning his head against Mycroft's shoulder as they walked through the silent house. "But you're a good mum."

Mycroft just chuckled and kissed Greg's knuckles lightly.

Everyone slept soundly the rest of the night.


End file.
